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ELOQUENT 

AND 

Patriotic Speech 

OP THE 


Celebrated Irish Barrister, 

MR PHILLIPS, 

*% 

AS SPOKEN BY HIM AT A PUBLIC DINNER 

GIVEN BY 

The Friends of Freedorh 

AND 

ENEMIES TO CORRUPTION! 

IN LIVERPOOL, 

On Thursday the 3lsL day of September , 1816, 

iis tt Ft oof of their 

Regard Esteem 

FOR THE MAN 

W At 

Who has Courage enough to be Honest! 

AND HONESTY ENOUGH > 

m 

TO BE 

Bold in the Cause of his Country!! 


wisbech: 

PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY SPRINGWELL FYSH, BOOKSELLER? 
STATIONER AND BINDER, NEAR inE ROSE AND 
CROTTN, IN' THE HIGH STREET. 


1816. 

Price Three Pence. 



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Phillips’$ Speech. 


BELIEVE me, Mr. Chairman, I feel too sen¬ 
sibly the high and unmerited compliment you 
have paid me, to attempt any other return than 
the simple expressions of my gratitude—to be 
just, I must be silent; but though the tongue is 
mute, my heart is much more than eloquent. 
The kindness of friendship—the testimony ot any 
class, however humble, carries with it no trilling 
gratification—but stranger as I am, to be so dis¬ 
tinguished in this great town, whose wealth is its 
least recommendation—the emporium ot com¬ 
merce, liberality, and public spirit—the birth¬ 
place of talent*—the residence of integrity the 
field where freedom seems to have rallied the last 
allies of her cause, as if, with tlie noble conscious¬ 
ness that though patriotism could not wreathe the 
laurel round her brow, genius should at least raise 
it over her ashes—to be so distinguished, Sir, and 
in such a place, does, I confess, inspire me with 
a vanity which even a sense of my unimportance 
cannot entirely silence. Indeed, Sir, the minis¬ 
terial critics of Liverpool were right. I have no 
claim to this enthusiastic welcome. But I cannot 
look upon this testimonial so much as a tribute to 
myself, as an omen to that country with whose 
fortunes the dearest sympathies ot my soul are in¬ 
tertwined. Oh yes, 1 do foresee when she shall 
hear with what courtesy her most pretension less 
advocate has been treated, how the same wind 







t 


4 

that wafts her the intelligence, will revive that 
flame within her, which the blood of ages has not 
been able to extinguish. It may be a delusive 
hope, but lam glad to grasp at any phantom that 
flits across the solitude of that country’s desolation. 
On this subject you can scarcely be ignorant, for 
you have an Irishman resident amongst you, 
whom i am proud to call my friend—whose fide¬ 
lity to Ireland no absence can diminish—who has 
at once the honesty to be candid, and the talent to 
be convincing. I need scarcely say 1 allude to 
Mr. Casey—l knew, Sir, the statue was too strik¬ 
ing to require a name upon the pedestal. Alas ! 
Ireland has little now to console her, except the 
consciousness of having produced such men. It 
would be a treasonable adulation in me to deceive 
you. Six centuries of base misgovernment—of 
causeless, ruthless, and ungrateful persecution, 
have now reduced that country to a crisis, at 
which, I know not whether the friend of huma¬ 
nity has most cause to grieve or to rejoice; because 
I am not sure that the same feeling which prompts 
the tear at human sufferings ought not to triumph 
in that increased infliction which may at length 
tire them out at endurance. I trust in God a 
change of system may in time anticipate the re¬ 
sults of desperation; but you may quite depend 
on it, a period is approaching when, if penalty does 
not pause in the pursuit, patience will turn short 
on the pursuer. Can you wonder at it?—Con¬ 
template Ireland during any given period of Eng¬ 
land’s rule, and what a picture does she exhibit!— 
Behold her created in all the prodigality of nature 
—with a soil that anticipates the husbandman's 
desires—with harbours courting the commerce of 
the world—with rivers capable of the most effee- 




5 


five navigation, with the ore of every metal strug¬ 
gling through her surface—with a people brave, 
generous, and intellectual, literally forcing their 
way through the disabilities of their own coun¬ 
try, into the highest stations of every other; and 
well rewarding the policy that promotes them, 
by achievements the most heroic, and allegiance 
without a blemish. How have the successive Go¬ 
vernments of England demeaned themselves to a 
nation, offering such an accumulation of moral 
and political advantages! See it in the state of 
Ireland at this instant—in the universal bank¬ 
ruptcy that overwhelms her—in the loss of her 
trade—in the annihilation of her manufactures— 
in the deluge of her debt—in the divisions of her 
people—in all the loathsome operations of an 
odious, monopolising, hypocritical fanaticism on 
the one hand, wrestling with the untiring but 
natural reprisals of an irritated population on the 
other! It required no common ingenuity to re¬ 
duce such a country to such a situation. But it 
has been done—man has conquered the benefi¬ 
cence of the Deity—his harpy touch has changed 
the viands to corruption, and that land, which you 
might have possessed in health, and wealth, and 
vigour, to support you in your hour of need, now 
writhes in the agonies of death, unable even to 
lift the shroud with which famine and fatuity try 
to encumber her convulsions. This is what I see 
a pensioned press denominates tranquillity. Oh, 
woe t*o the land threatened with such tranquillity 
—■solitudinem faciunt, pacem appellant —it is not 
yet the tranquillity of solitude—it is not yet the 
tranquillity of death—but if you would know 
what it is, go forth in the silence of creation— 

• when every wind is hushed, and every echo mute, 





6 


and all nature seems to listen in dumb, and terri¬ 
fied, and breathless expectation—go forth in such 
an hour, and see the terrible tranquillity by which 
you are surrounded! How could it be otherwise, 
when for ages upon ages, invention has fatigued 
itself with expedients for irritation; when, as I 
have read with horror in the progress of my legal 
studies, the homicide of a “ mere Irishman” was 
considered justifiable, and when his ignorance was 
the origin of all his crimes, his education was pro¬ 
hibited by Act of Parliament !—when the people 
were worm-eaten by the odious vermin which a 
Church and State adultery had spawned—when a 
bad heart, and brainless head, were the fangs by 
which every foreign adventurer and domestic 
traitor fastened upon office—when the property of 
the native was but an invitation to plunder, and 
his non-acquiescence the signal for confiscation— 
when religion itself was made the odious pretence 
for every persecution, and the fires of hell were 
alternately lighted with the cross, and quenched 
in the blood of its defenceless followers! I speak 
of times that are passed; but can their recollec¬ 
tions—can their consequences be so readily eradi¬ 
cated T —Why, however, should I refer to periods 
that are distant? Behold, at this instant, five mil¬ 
lions of her people disqualified on account of their 
faith—and that by a country professing freedom ! 
and that under a Government calling itself Chris¬ 
tian! You (when I say you, of course I mean, 
not the high-minded people of England, but the 
men who misgovern us both) seem to have taken 
out a roving commission in search of grievances 
abroad, whilst you overlook the calamities at your 
own door, and of your own infliction. You tra¬ 
verse the ocean to emancipate the African—you 



/ 


1 

cross the line to convert the Hindoo—you hurl 
your thunder against the savage Algerine—but, 
your own brethren at home, who speak the same 
tongue, acknowledge the same king, and kneel 
to the same God, cannot get one visit from your 
itinerant humanity! Oh, such a system is almost 
too abominable for a name—it is a monster of im¬ 
piety, impolicy, ingratitude, and injustice! The 
pagan nations of antiquity scarcely acted on such 
barbarous principles. Look to ancient Rome, 
with her sword in one hand and her Constitution 
in the other, healing the injuries of conquest with 
the embrace of brotherhood, and wisely convert¬ 
ing the captive into the citizen. Look to her great 
enemy, the glorious Carthagenian, at the foot of 
the Alps, ranging his prisoners round him, and by 
the politic option of captivity or arms, recruiting 
his legions with the very men whom he had lite¬ 
rally conquered into gratitude! They laid their 
foundations deep in the human heart, and their 
success was proportionate to their policy. You 
complain of the violence of the Irish Catholic— 
can you wonder he is violent? It is the conse¬ 
quence of your own infliction— 

“ The flesh w ill quiver where the pincers tear, 

The blood will follow where the knife is driven.” 

Your friendship lias been to him worse than hos¬ 
tility—he feels its embrace but by the pressure of 
bis fetters. I am only amazed he is not much 
more violent. He fills your Exchequer, he fights 
your battles, he feeds your clergy, from whom he 
derives no benefit, he shares your burthens, he 
shares your perils, he shares every thing, except 
your privileges —can you veondec lie is violent 1 
He sees every pretended obstacle to his emanci¬ 
pation vanished—Catholic Europe your ally, the 


8 


Bourbon on the throne, the Emperor a captive, the 
Pope a friend; the aspersions on his faith dis¬ 
proved by his allegiance to you against, alter¬ 
nately, every Catholic Potentate in Christendom, 
and he feels himself branded with hereditary de¬ 
gradation —can you wonder, Hum, that he is vio¬ 
lent ?— He petitioned humbly—his tameness was 
construed into a proof of apathy. He petitioned 
boldly—his remonstrance was considered as an 
impudent audacity. He petitioned in peace—he 
was told it was not the time . He petitioned in 
war—he was told it was not the time . A strange 
interval—a prodigy in politics, a pause between 
peace and war, which appeared to be just made 
for him, arose—I allude to the period between the 
retreat of Louis and the restoration of Buona- 
part—he petitioned then, and he was told it was 
not the time . Oh, shame! shame! shame! 1 
hope he will petition no more a Parliament so 
equivocating. However, I am sorry they did so 
equivocate, because, I think, they have suggested 
one common remedy for the grievances of both 
countries, and that remedy is, a Reform of that 
Parliament. Without that, I plainly see, there 
is no hope for Ireland—there is no salvation for 
England ; they will act towards you as they have 
done towards us—they will admit your reasoning 
—they will admire your eloquence, and they will 
prove their sincerity by a strict perseverance in 
the impolicy you have exposed, and the profligacy 
you have deprecated. Look to England at this 
moment. To what a state have they not reduced 
her! Over this vast island, for whose wealth the 
winds of heaven seemed to blow, covered as she 
once was with the gorgeous mantle of successful 
agriculture, all studded over with the gems of art 




9 


and manufacture, there is now scarce an object 
but industry in rags, and patience in despair. The 
merchant without a ledger—the fields without a 
harvest—the shops without a customer—the Ex¬ 
change deserted, and the Gazette crowded, form 
the heart-rending comments on that nefarious 
system, in support of which, Peers and contrac¬ 
tors, stock-jobbers and sinecurists, in short, the 
whole trained, collated, pampered, and rapacious 
pack of ministerial beagles, have been, for half a 
century, in the most clamorous and discordant 
uproar! During all this misery, how are the pi¬ 
lots of the State employed ? Why, in feeding the 
bloated mammoth of sinecure—in weighing the 
farthings of some underling’s salary—in prepar¬ 
ing Ireland for a garrison, and England for a 
poor-house—in the structure of Chinese palaces, 
the decoration of dragoons, and the erection of 
public buildings. Oh! ’tis easily seen we have a 
saint in the Exchequer—he has studied scripture 
to some purpose—the famishing people cry out for 
bread, and the scriptural Minister gives them 
stones! Such has been the result of the blessed 
Pitt system, which, amidst oceans of blood, and 
800 millions expenditure, has left you, after all 
your victories, a triumphant dupe—a trophied 
bankrupt. I have heard before of States ruined 
bv the visitation of Providence, devastated by 
famine, wasted by fire, overcome by enemies; but 
never until now did I see a State, like England, 
impoverished by her spoils, and conquered by her 
successes! She has fought ths fight of Europe— 
she has purchased all its eoinable blood —she has 
subsidised all its dependencies in their own cause 
—she has conquered'by sea—she has conquered 
by land—she has got peace, and of course, or the 






Pitt apostles would not have made peace—she 
has got her 66 indemnity for the past, and security 
for the future; 77 —and here she is, alter all her va¬ 
nity and all her victories, surrounded by desola¬ 
tion, like one of the pyramids of Egypt, amid the 
grandeur of the desert, full of magnificence and 
death—at once a trophy and a tomb! The heart 
of any reflecting man must burn within him, when 
he thinks that the war, thus sanguinary in its ope¬ 
rations, thus confessedly ruinous in its expendi¬ 
ture, was even still more odious in its principle. 
It was a war,avowedIy undertaken for the purpose 
of forcing France out of her undoubted right of 
choosing her own Monarch ; a war which uprooted 
the very foundations of the English Constitution 
—which libelled the most glorious era in our na¬ 
tional annals—which declared tyranny eternal, 
and announced to the people, amid the thunder of 
artillery, that no matter how aggrieved, their 
only allowable attitude was that of supplication— 
which, when it told the French reformer of 1793 
that his defeat was just, told the British reformer 
of 1688 his triumph was treason, and exhibited to 
history the terrific farce of a Prince of the House 
of Brunswick, the creature of the Revolution, 

OFFERING AN HUMAN HECATOMB UPON THE GRAVE OF 

James the Second! ! What else have you done? 
You have succeeded, indeed, in dethron ing Na¬ 
poleon, and you have dethroned a Monarch, who, 
with all his imputed crimes and vices, shed a 
splendour around royalty, too powerful for the 
feeble vision of legitimacy even to bear. He had 
many faults; I do not seek to palliate them. He 
deserted his principles; I rejoice that he has suf¬ 
fered. But still let us be generous even in our 
enmities. How grand was his march! How mag-* 



II 


nihcent his destiny! Say what we will, Sir, he will 
be the land-mark of our times in the eye of poste¬ 
rity. The goal of other men’s speed was his start¬ 
ing-post—crowns were his playthings—thrones his 
footstool—he strode from victory to victory—his 
path was “ a plane of continued elevations.” 
Surpassing the boast of the too confident Homan, 
he but stamped upon the earth, and not only armed 
men, but States and Dynasties, and arts and sci- 
ences, all that mind could imagine or industry 
produce, started up, the creation of enchantment. 
He is fallen—as the late Mr. Whitbread said, 
“you made him, and he unmade himself,”—his 
own ambition was his glorious conqueror, lie at¬ 
tempted, with a sublime audacity, to grasp the 
tires of heaven, and Ids heathen retribution has 
been the vulture of the rock! 1 do not ask what 
you have gained by it. because in place of gaining 
any thing, you are infinitely worse than when you 
commenced the contest. But what have you done 
for Europe ? What have you achieved for man? 
Have morals been ameliorated ? Has liberty been 
strengthened ? Has any one improvement in po¬ 
litics or philosophy been produced ? Let us see 
how. You have restored to Portugal a Prince of 
whom we know nothing, except that when his do¬ 
minions were invaded, his people distracted, his 
crown in danger, and all that could iuterest the 
highest energies of man at issue, lie left ids cause 
to he combated by foreign bayonets, and fled with 
a dastard precipitation to the shameful security of 
a distant hemisphere ! You have restored to Spain 
a wretch of even worse than proverbial princely 
ingratitude; who filled his dungeons, and fed his 
rack with the heroic remnant that had braved war, 
and famine, and massacre beneath his banners; 





12 


who rewarded patriotism with the prison—fidelity 
with the torture—heroism with the scaffold—and 
piety with the inquisition; whose royalty was pub¬ 
lished by the signature of his death-warrants, and 
whose religion evaporated in the embroidering of 
petticoats for the blessed Virgin! You have 
forced upon France a family to whom misfortune 
could not teach mercy, or experience wisdom ; 
vindictive in prosperity—servile in defeat—timid 
in the field—vacillating in the Cabinet—suspicion 
amongst themselves—discontent amongst their 
followers—-their memories tenacious but of the 
punishments they had provoked, their piety active 
but in subserviency to their priesthood, and their 
power passive but in the subjugation of their peo¬ 
ple ! Such are the dynasties you have conferred 
on Europe. In the very act, that of enthroning 
three individuals of the same family, you have 
committed in politics a capital error; but Provi¬ 
dence has countermined the ruin you were prepar¬ 
ing, and whilst their impolicy prevents the chance, 
their impotency precludes the danger of a coali¬ 
tion. As to the rest of Europe, how has it been 
ameliorated? What solitary benefit have the 
“ deliverers” conferred ? They have partitioned 
the States of the feeble to feed the rapacity of the 
powerful; and after having alternately adored 
and deserted Napoleon, they have wreaked their 
vengeance on the noble but unfortunate fidelity 
that spurned their example! Do you want proofs 
—look to Saxony—look to Genoa—look to Nor¬ 
way—but, above all, to Poland ! That speaking 
monument ot regal murder and legitimate rob¬ 
bery !!! 

Oh ! bloodiest picture in the hook of time— 

Samartia fell—unwept—without a crime! 



13 


Here was an opportunity to recompense that 
brave, heroic, generous, martyred and devoted 
people—here was an opportunity to convince ja¬ 
cobinism that crowns and crimes were not, of 
course, co-existent, and that the highway rapacity 
of one generation might be atoned by the peni¬ 
tential retribution of another! Look to Italy: 
parcelled out of temporising Austria—the land of 
the muse, the historian, and the hero—the scene 
of every classic recollection—the sacred fane of 
antiquity, where the genius of the world weeps 
and worships, and the spirits of the past start into 
life at the inspiring pilgrimage of some kindred 
Roscoe. You do yourselves honour by this noble, 
this natural enthusiasm. Long may you enjoy 
the pleasure of possessing, never can you lose the 
pride of having produced the Scholar, without 
pedantry—the Patriot, without reproach—the 
Christian, without superstition—the Man, with¬ 
out blemish ! It is a subject I could dwell on with 
delight for ever. How painful our transition to 
the disgusting path of the deliverers. Look to 
Prussia, after fruitless toil and wreathless tri¬ 
umphs, mocked with the promise of a visionary 
constitution. Look to Prance, chained and plun¬ 
dered, weeping over the tomb of her hopes and 
her heroes. Look to England, eaten by the cancer 
of an incurable debt—exhausted by poors-rates— 
supporting a civil list of near a million and a half, 
annual amount—guarded by a standing army 
of 150,000 men—misrepresented by a House of 
Commons, ninety of whose Members, in places and 
pensions, derive 200,0001. in yearly emoluments 
from the Minister—mocked with a military peace, 
and girt with the fortifications of a war-estab¬ 
lishment! Shades of heroic millions! these are 







14 


thy achievments!! Monster of Legitimacy!!! 
—this is thy consummation! The past is out of 
our power; it is high time to provide against the 
future. Retrenchment and reform are now be¬ 
come not only expedient for our prosperity, but 
necessary to our very existence. Can any man of 
sense say that the present system should continue? 
What! When war and peace have alternately 
thrown every family in the empire into mourning 
and poverty, shall the fattened tax-gatherer ex¬ 
tort the starving manufacturer’s last shilling, to 
sweli the unmerited and enormous sinecure of 
some wealthy pauper? Shall a borough-monger- 
ing faction convert what is mis-named the na¬ 
tional representation, into a mere instrument for 
raising the supplies which are to gorge its own 
venality? Snail the mock dignitaries of Whig- 
g is in and Toryism, lead their hungry retainers to 
contest the protits of an alternate ascendency 
over the prostrate interests of a too generous peo¬ 
ple? These are questions which 1 blush to ask 
—which I shudder to think must be either an¬ 
swered by the Parliament or the people! Let 
our rulers prudently avert the interrogation.— 
We live in times when the slightest remonstrance 
should command attention—when the minutest 
speck that merely dots the edge of the political 
horizon, may be the car of the approaching spirit 
of the storm! Oh! they are times whose omen 
no fancied security can avert; times of the most 
awful and portentous admonition. Establish¬ 
ments the most solid, thrones the most ancient, 
coalitions the most powerful, have crumbled be¬ 
fore our eyes, and the creature of a moment, robed 
and crowned, and sceptered, raised his fairy 
creation [on their ruins! The warning: has been 


■w 


15 


\ 


given; may it not have been given in vain. 

I feel, Sir, that the magnitude of the topics f 
have touched, and the imminency of the perils 
which seem to surround us, have led me far be¬ 
yond the limits of a convivial meeting. 1 see 1 
have my apology in your indulgence. But I can¬ 
not prevail on myself to trespass farther. Accept 
again, Gentlemen, my most grateful acknowledg¬ 
ments. Never, never can 1 forget this day: in 
private life, it shall be the companion of my soli¬ 
tude; and if in the caprices of that fortune which 
will at times degrade the high and dignify the hum¬ 
ble, 1 should be hereafter called to any station of 
responsibility, I think I may at least fearlessly 
promise the friends who thus crowd around me, 
that no act of mine shall ever raise a blush at the 
recollection of their early encouragement. I hope, 
however, the benefit of this day will not be con¬ 
fined to the humble individual you have so ho- 
non red ; I hope it will cheer on the young aspi¬ 
rants after virtuous fame in both our countries, by 
proving to them, that, however, for the moment 
envy or ignorance, or corruption, may depreciate 
them, there is reward in store for the man who 
thinks with integrity and acts with decision.— 
Gentlemen, you will add to the obligations you 
have already conferred, by delegating to me the 
honour of proposing to you the health of a man, 
whose virtues adorn, and whose talents powerfully 
advocate our cause; i mean the health of your 

worthy Chairman. 

0 

FINIS . 


Printed by Springmell Fysh, 
Bookseller, Wisbech. 































































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